


don't you dare look back, keep your eyes on me

by glitteration



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, First Time, Fix-It, Loss of Virginity, Monroe just wants to kiss Harper forever and hurt anyone who makes her cry get off her back guys, equal parts angst and tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 22:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14145633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteration/pseuds/glitteration
Summary: you belong among the wildflowers; you belong somewhere close to mefar away from your trouble and worries, you belong somewhere you feel freein which zoe monroe:- lives- joins the resistance- gets herself a girlfriend- loses her virginity(not necessarily in that order.)AKA, the pure wish fulfillment au where two equally adorable and not-dead girlfriends find a way to make it right.





	don't you dare look back, keep your eyes on me

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS FOR YOU, MEG

Once Monty's out the door, Miller and Harper's attention swings to her. Monroe struggles not to fidget under the weight of their combined anger, forcing her spine straight and her chin out. Doing this thing right probably meant not lying to Harper in the first place, but maybe if she can explain why she did it the ugly, betrayed look in Harper's eyes will fade a little.

Or maybe it won't, but Sterling was over the ledge and gone before she got to say a lot of the stuff still rattling around in her head like spare bolts lost in the bottom of a toolkit. Harper can't be more bolts, not if there's a chance to fix it. "Miller, can you give us a minute?"

"Give you a minute? Even if all this shit wasn't happening, this is _my_ room, Monroe. So get out."

"No." Monroe notches her back up against the wall, burrowing in like an animal getting ready to fight. "Harper, I wanna talk to you."

"Were you not listening? I said get _out_. Now." Miller curls his tongue warningly around the words, spitting them out like they hurt and advancing a couple steps. He'd been ready to pull on Bellamy, and Monroe starts reviewing everything Lincoln ever taught her about taking down somebody bigger, eyes darting from Miller's hands to his gun and then back again.

"Miller, wait." Harper pulls him back, hooking a finger in his vest and giving it a yank when he strains against her hand, still staring Monroe down. "Just... can we have a minute, please?"

He studies her face, working his jaw angrily. "Fine. I gotta go find Bry. Be careful, all right?" His meaningful glance at Monroe makes her bristle, but Harper just nods.

"You too. Don't jump into anything you can't take back."

"I think we're all past that now." Monroe tries not to show she’s taking it personally that Miller won't give her his back, and from his grim little smirk it's a lost cause. "I better find everything like I left it when I get back." He pats his jacket where Bryan planted the bug. "Harper, stay sharp."

Harper nods, then crosses her arms over her chest once he's gone, face shutting down. "You wanted to talk. So talk."

"Harper..." Monroe droops, unhappy frown pulling her mouth into a downward curve. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

"What, you guys weren't planning to spy on your friends? To lie to us? Wow, I feel much better now."

"Sorry." As apologies go it's barely anything, but she's never been good at this. "We just wanted to keep everybody safe."

"Kane and Sinclair and Lincoln are going to _die_. 'Sorry' doesn't cover it."

"Not if you let us help you."

"We told you. There's nothing to help us with." Harper shrugs with one shoulder. "And if that's all you have to say, I'm going to–"

"No, wait." Her chest constricts, and she tastes ash and blood on her tongue like she had for a week after the grounder village. "Don't leave."

“Why not, Monroe? What’s left to say? You chose Bellamy. You chose _Pike_ , over me.”

“It wasn’t like that–”

“It _was_. You knew about the bug, right?”

Miserably, Monroe nods.

“So where was mine? What, Monty couldn’t rig up two fast enough?”

“He didn’t ask me.” Because she would have said no. No _way_ , not to Harper. It wouldn’t have made her change sides, so Harper won’t think it counts, but it should. There’s not a lot left in her life she’d tell Bellamy no over. “He didn’t want to do it. That was Pike.”

“He still did it.”

“Yeah, but—“

“No! Monroe, if all you’re going to do is make excuses I have places to be.”

“Pike’s right about the grounders.” Anger makes her voice crack, and Monroe flushes beet red when Harper gives her a scathing look. “He _is_ , Harper. Everything that’s happened is because of them.”

“What about Lincoln?”

“Lincoln’s different.”

“You sound like Bellamy.”

“Yeah, because he’s right.”

“No, he’s _scared_ , and he’s pissed off that Clarke left, and he’s dragging you down with him.”

The urge to defend Bellamy wars with her need to make Harper see the truth, and she takes a pleading step forward, hands outstretched. “They’re _why_ she left. Lincoln helped us, but everything else has been their fault. They shot me, and they took you, and they almost got us all killed in the mountain.”

“That was Cage, Monroe. The grounders didn’t–”

Harper talks over her, rapidfire with anxiety. "No, it was their fault too, Harper. If Lexa hadn't made that deal–"

"Oh my God, would you stop it? So _what_. She left us, and now she's dead. Stop using that as an excuse not to use your head and form a single opinion of your own."

The words sound like ice cracking or branches snapping, so unlike the usual happy chime that Monroe wants to throw up before she even gets around to being mad. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means, what do _you_ think about all this? Not Bellamy or Pike, you."

"I." Her tongue is thick and fumbling, and all the clear reasons drop away one by one in the face of Harper's demand. Bellamy said jump, so she jumped, because ever since they set foot on the ground Bellamy's always known best. "It's not like that."

“Oh, really? Then what’s it like, because I can’t see the difference.”

“I couldn’t abandon Bellamy again.” Not like she had when Sterling’s radio went dark and she left Miller in the foxhole to find him, too wrapped up in their friendship to do what was right for everybody and betraying the first person other than Sterling to look at her and see a person worth relying on.

“So you abandoned me, instead.”

“I did my _job_.”

“We have the _same job_ , and I didn’t decide to throw away my friends over it.”

“It’s different for me.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that, Monroe, because I don’t see how we’re all that different.”

“It just _is_.”

“So explain why!”

"You were _gone_." The words fly out like knives and Monroe's throat feels like she's been gargling with Monty's first attempt at moonshine. To her horror tears burn at the back of her eyes. "You were gone, and Sterling died, and then Bellamy left too, and they took me on." _I was alone_ , she wants to howl. _I didn't have anything else_.

Harper jerks back like Monroe hauled off and decked her, bone white and trembling with suppressed emotion. "You're holding getting kidnapped against me? I wasn't on _vacation_ , Monroe, you know what they did to me."

"I didn't mean it like that." Unlike her, Harper's fine with letting the tears out. Monroe watches them trickle down her cheeks and feels like she smashed something precious. “But you don’t know what it was like _here_ , because you were there.”

Harper doesn’t know about the leg exercises or wanting to break stuff all the time or the guard offering her something to _do_ with the boundless frustration, and she might have been around later but Monroe never told her how the day Clarke left and Bellamy didn’t something got lit inside, some furious wick on a long-burning candle and Pike was just the last extra burst of heat eating up the final inch or two of peace.

“How can I know things you don’t tell me, _Zoe_?”

Monroe screws up her face in disgust but doesn’t fight the use of her first name. “I didn’t wanna talk about it.”

“Well, that’s ironic.”

“What do you want me to say?”

Harper opens her mouth, then closes it again and rubs her forehead with two trembling fingertips. “Just… why’d you do it? Why did you let them plant that bug?”

“I wanted you to be safe. Pike only wanted to stop you, he said so. We just needed enough to lock Kane down until—“

“He’s going to kill them, Monroe. And if he finds out Nate and I helped them, he’ll kill me too.”

“ _No he won’t_.” The words burst from her chest, halfway to a shout.

“He will, Monroe, and what are you going to do then?”

Panic looms over her like a cliff’s edge, obscuring everything but the simple truth. “I won’t let him.”

“Because you have such a great track record there.”

Desperate and reeling and unable to find the words to make Harper understand that she’s the only piece of this loyalty to Bellamy can’t touch, Monroe jolts forward and smashes her mouth against Harper’s in what could only be roughly called a kiss, her chapped lips snagging on Harper’s own. It’s not sweet or happy or anything she thought about when she’d let herself wonder what it would be like to kiss Harper, but it’s the only way to say what her words can’t.

Harper doesn’t kiss her back, but she doesn’t pull away either. When Monroe takes a faltering step away Harper stops it with a delicate hand on her lower back, keeping her there.

“You kissed me.”

“Yeah.” Monroe swallows past the lump of anxiety clogging her throat, bobbing her head in an awkward nod.

“Why?”

“I won’t let anybody hurt you.” I _love_ you, she wants to say, but the words stick and refuse to rearrange themselves into anything but a pained, wet inhale.

Harper kisses her this time, and it’s a little better; there’s something sticky and wet slicking the way, flavoring the kiss with salt. Pulling back, Harper traces the trail of a tear down Monroe’s cheek. “Okay.”

“...okay?”

“Okay.”

Monroe’s kissed a couple people before. None of them felt like this, or made her heart flip over in her chest just by touching her. What to do next is a complete mystery, but Harper either knows she’s never done this before or isn’t as afraid of it as Monroe is, because she tugs her back onto Miller’s bed and climbs on top of her, kissing her again hard enough to steal Monroe’s breath.

She feels ungainly and awkward but Harper’s warm and close and thank God _she’s_ sure what comes next and knows how to get there, because before Monroe can figure out how to make her hands work again Harper’s down to just her bra and underwear and with a little huff of affectionate humor she sets to working on Monroe’s clothes, tangling their fingers together on the buttons and making it take twice as long.

That’s okay though, because it’s more time touching Harper and less time thinking about what to do and if she’s about to mess everything up even worse.

“Do you trust me?” When Monroe nods she presses a kiss to the skin below her belly button, nosing lower under her breath gusts out hot over her thighs. Monroe’s conscious all at once of how wet she is, embarrassment prickling and making her squirm until Harper’s happy little sounds of approval make her squirm for another reason entirely. “Let me know if I do anything you don’t like, okay?”

If she were somebody like Sterling, Monroe would tell Harper that would be impossible; she’s Harper, and this is like dreams she used to have in the skybox. Instead Monroe nods breathes out a quiet _okay_ in reply.

She can’t tell if Harper is just good at this or it’s good because it’s Harper, but she’s sweaty and trembling like she never does alone in her bunk, throat tight with arousal and nerves. What if she’s taking too long, or Harper’s tired, or she’s not taking long _enough_ —

The familiar clench in her belly that means she’s going to come is shock when it comes. She’s been too wrapped up in her worry to notice how close she is until orgasm sweeps her feet out from underneath her and leaves the world spinning.

It takes everything she has not to yank at Harper’s hair, and Monroe fists her hands in the sheets and shivers, panting. She doesn’t black out or anything, but her toes curl and her legs jump like she went running and didn’t bother to stretch after and she feels… _good_ , happy in a way she hasn’t since Sterling died.

“You sound like a fish.” Harper gives her a kiss on one corner of her open mouth then rests her chin on Monroe’s chest, smug and happy like Monroe was the one who ate _her_ out instead of the other way around. “A cute fish.”

“‘m not _cute_.”

“You kind of are.”

Unable to stop from laughing now herself, Monroe pushes herself up and over Harper, kissing her again. “Shut up.” Swallowing hard, she reaches down to put a hand on Harper’s thigh, licking her lips nervously. “Can I?”

Harper grins and takes her hand, moving it up and resting it between her legs, thumb brushing where the top of her thighs are already wet. “Please, Zoe.” Monroe’s never liked the sound of her first name before, but when Harper says it like that something inside her goes tight and warm, and she wants to hear it again.

At least _this_ part she knows how to do, trying the things that get her off when she’s only got a couple minutes to herself on Harper until she finds the ones she likes, too. “Oh my god, do that again.” She does it again, and again, until Harper’s hips move enough she has to use her free hand to hold her in place enough she can keep going. “ _Zoe_ —”

“I love you.” The confession tumbles out before she can stop it, because Harper is the most beautiful thing she ever seen and she _does_ , and she was terrified she wouldn’t ever get to say it when her legs quit working and Monty had to drag her out of the village himself.

Harper doesn’t say it back, but she does cry out and jerk in her grasp, saying her name over and over and sucking kisses into her collar bone to keep quiet as she comes. She reaches for Monroe after when she makes to pull away, wrapping her in a hug and breathing quietly until she recovers while Monroe plays with her hair.

Finally, Harper laughs. “Miller’s totally gonna kill us. Worth it, but he is.”

 _Worth it_. Monroe’s chest feels like it could burst and all the things inside would light up Arkadia for a month. “I want to help you guys.”

Harper’s eyes dart away before she answers. “With what?”

“Harper… trust _me_ , now. I can help. Whatever it is, I _want_ to help.”

“Zoe… it would mean you’d have to turn on Pike. On Bellamy. We can’t trust him, not yet.”

Pain lances through her, but if that’s the choice she has to make it now, after Harper trusted her enough to stop pretending. “Whatever it is. You don’t have to tell me everything, but I’ll still help.” She pauses, trying to make her understand it’s not just because she doesn’t want Harper to leave. “It’s why I came. Lincoln taught me how to fight, Harper.”

She wills her to understand that her loyalty might be irrevocably Bellamy’s as her love is Harper’s, but Lincoln was the one who _taught her to fight_. Even if she’s not entirely convinced Bellamy and Pike are wrong about the rest of his people that means he’s worth fighting for.

Harper inhales, and Monroe can’t release her own breath until she nods, eyes softening. “We’re breaking them out.”


End file.
